Late in the afternoon of a day in the early part of last December I had ridden out from our lines in Ladysmith towards a certain position usually occupied by a Boer outpost, trusting by my going out deliberately and unarmed to get one of the men there to have a talk, just as one of the Lancers had a few days previously. For some time we had been on short rations of "copy" as well as food. I rode along the edge of an empty spruit, into the bed of which my spurs would have propelled my horse in the unlikely event of a shot being my first greeting.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
15719 | 2018-10-21 19:45:06 | 110.54 | 99% |
14197 | 2018-08-20 00:56:37 | 92.84 | 98% |
12200 | 2018-03-25 20:01:35 | 98.68 | 99% |
11614 | 2018-03-11 05:31:18 | 94.09 | 99% |